


By your side

by RegalStory108



Series: All I need is you [1]
Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26267284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RegalStory108/pseuds/RegalStory108
Summary: Oh, how late am I to the Berena-party!? But gods, how can I not write about them.For now, this will be a two-part series, see more specified summaries at the start of the stories.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Series: All I need is you [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1908415
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	By your side

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot is sort of AU, where Bernie is still a trauma surgeon, but Serena works as a Detective Chief Inspector.   
> A tough day for Serena at work, requires Bernie's support.   
> Enough said?
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer(s): I do not own these character; I don't have much medical knowledge, so apologies for any inconsistencies.

There was a moment, just a split second, where the world paused; Berenice Wolfe, trauma lead of the AAU at Holby City felt as though the breath had been knocked out of her. The formidable, tough army medic felt a wave of panic wash over her; engulfed by icy water. There, walking, half jogging next to a gurney was her wife: Serena Campbell. Detective Chief Inspector Campbell to most. What alarmed Bernie was the sight of blood on the side of her head and face, her short dark, greying hair slick and wet. Her normally white crisp shirt had stains of blood, too. Their eyes locked for several moments, and all Bernie could see was despair, her eyes pleading. She let out the breath she didn’t realise she was holdings

Sound returned, and Bernie managed to focus; _pull yourself together, Major_.

«....37 years old, first degree burns to about 39% of the body surface. Tachycardic. BP.....»

Bernie’s brain sprang into action, after all, she was trained for this, «Take him straight to theatre, have Dr Thompson from reconstruction meet me there. Prep him, I’ll be there in 3 minutes. » Her voice was calm, yet firm; her authority spurring everyone to do their duty.

She spun around, and managed to grip her wife’s wrist, effectively removing her hold on the gurney. As she pulled, she set aside her inner turmoil, as she had done countless times before. It was necessary for her to be at her best, to be the best surgeon she could be in moments of crisis, and equally, the best wife and partner to Serena.

Serena was about to protest as she was torn away from the gurney but relented as she met Bernie’s soft gaze.

«Come. » Bernie whispered, loosening her grip, leading her to an examination room.

Serena’s face had gone ashen, a thin sheen of sweat covering her skin. Once there, she lowered herself slowly onto the leather seat.

«Serena, what happened? » Bernie asked, while attempting to keep her quavering voice in check. She stood close to Serena now, her gloved hands carefully turning her face from side to side, determining where she was bleeding from.

«An explosion. » she croaked, her eyes closing for several long seconds, «I should’ve seen it coming. »

Bernie knew that was something she’d have to address later, however now, time was against them. She was somewhat satisfied with her short assessment and concluded that Serena’s injuries weren’t life threatening. Bernie leaned in for a tender kiss, «I’ll be in theatre for the next hours, I’ll have Fletch come in and clean you up. You’ll need a head CT.»

Serena’s hand squeezed Bernie’s as she left the room.

Before leaving, Bernie turned, calm settling within her, «You gave me quite a scare, love. »

Serena only smiled weakly, and Bernie didn’t have time to linger.

-

The surgery had gone on for quite a few hours when Bernie finally stepped out of theatre, peeling off the surgical gown, gloves and cap. She stood for a few seconds, her head hitting the wall behind her. The man on the table was one she knew well- not from her own personal history, but for Serena’s. Michael Reed was her partner in the field, they’d attended training together; in many ways he was like a brother to her.

Though Bernie was very aware that she ought not operate on people she considered friends or family, this had to be an exception. It was her own justification, and the fact that she didn’t really trust anyone else to perform it. She’d done her best, but Michael Reed would never be the same. Alive, yes, but never the same. There had been a couple of moments where Bernie thought she would lose him; a bleed she couldn’t locate had very nearly been the end. But she was, as Serena fondly called her, the greatest trauma surgeon Britain had to offer. Today, that comment had fuelled her, kept her going throughout the surgery. Dr Thompson was still in theatre working on the burns; attempting to ease the pain that was to come. Skin grafts would be later, their sole focus now was to keep him alive. By his injuries, they’d estimated that Michael had been close to the blast.

Bernie shuddered to think it could have been Serena. _No, don’t think about that- she’s ok_.

With that thought in mind, she headed towards her office, where she knew she’d find Serena. Fletch would of course had tried telling her to go home, to get some rest, but she would never.

As the door swung open into her office, she saw Serena sitting in one of the chairs against the wall, her back ramrod straight, tense. Her forehead bore strips to close the wound going to side of her head. Her shirt was still stained in blood, her hands lying limply in her lap. Bernie took the seat next to her, taking Serena’s hand, holding it between both her own in her lap.

Without looking over, Serena whispered out into the dark room, «Did he make it? »

The way she looked, spoke, her hand trembling slightly in hers, could bring tears to Bernie’s eyes. On only very few occasions Bernie had witnessed her wife like this, broken and in pain. Strong nonetheless, one of the many reasons Bernie had fallen in love with her.

«He did. » she paused briefly, «But he’s not out of danger yet. »

Serena finally looked over, tears welling in her eyes, she seemed exhausted, drained.

She stood, «Can we go see him? »

«Of course. Then I’ll take you home. »

They walked side by side, hand in hand, out of Bernie’s office and into the corridor, to Michael’s room. It occurred to Bernie that they rarely showed affection towards one another at work, in front of their colleagues. Everyone knew of course, that they were married, many had attended their wedding. But they were both professionals and preferred to keep their private lives separate. Today was an exception, and Bernie was glad. While Serena was the one gripping hard at her hand, Bernie felt she needed it just as much.

Serena stopped in front of the door, watching her friend through the glass; barely recognisable, skin burnt on his neck, side of his face. Serena lingered, uncertain, making no move to enter.

As they stood, shoulder to shoulder, hands firmly held between them, Bernie heard a sharp intake in breath from Serena, as though she strangled a sob, «Home. » she managed; and Bernie turned them around, leading them out of the hospital.

About to enter the parking lot to find Bernie’s car, an officer came jogging after them, «Guv! »

Serena turned, and Bernie could tell she was steeling herself, she was after all a woman in a workplace dominated by men. Bernie knew better than most what it took to be respected in an environment like that.

The officer suddenly looked slightly nervous, «Orders, ma’am? »

«Right, sorry Blake. I think we all need a night to recover. Let’s reconvene in the morning, if there are no developments in the meantime. » Her voice was firm, not a trace of uncertainty.

Blake nodded in confirmation and turned to leave.

The two of them entered Bernie’s car, and they were off, finally going home.

The entire car ride home was quiet, Bernie kept her questions in check; the “are you ok?” Or “are you in pain?” She’d been where Serena was; in shock; processing. It was difficult to give space while there were so many things she wanted to ask, but she was reassured by Serena’s hand on her thigh, unmoving, but there.

Slowing the car to a halt in their driveway, Bernie was quick to exit, hurrying around the car to open the door for Serena.

Despite everything, Serena gave her a smile, «You’re very sweet, darling. » 

Bernie merely returned the smile and waited until Serena walked ahead of her into the house. Bernie could tell that her wife was beyond tired, strained; the way her shoulders hung lower than usual, her back slightly hunched forward- not the all-powerful detective she was most days, in Bernie’s eyes. And she had to admit, it was unnerving to see her like this, she normally tried not to think about the dangers of Serena’s work. Before, Bernie had been the one who faced risks on a daily basis, and it hadn’t really crossed her mind how difficult it could be for a partner. Perhaps she hadn’t given Marcus enough credit, once upon a time. After the IED, Bernie had made the decision to work as a civilian; a decision which was a condition to Marcus in an attempt to save their marriage. It had been a futile attempt. It seemed that the universe did have an odd sense of humour concerning Bernie’s life; she’d divorced, yet it had led her to meeting Serena, marrying her. It had been the happiest time of her life, being with her; still was.

Entering their home, Bernie forced down her worries, didn’t press, didn’t ask if she was alright, because she knew Serena wasn’t.

Serena stood there, in their dark living room, utterly still for a moment. Bernie was about to say something when Serena turned, gesturing between her shirt and the stairs, «I’m going to...» she gestured some more, unable to formulate the words.

Bernie looked at her with sadness in her eyes, «Ok. » she whispered, as if speaking loudly would make Serena flinch.

As Serena walked slowly up the stairs, Bernie started turning the lights on and hanging their coats away. Sitting down on the leather bench in the hallway, she pulled off her boots, dropping them with a loud thud on the floor. She exhaled loudly, before retrieving her phone from her pocket, sending Fletch a quick text, who would still be at work, asking about Michael. She didn’t wait for a reply, just left her phone at the kitchen table as she passed, making her way up the stairs and into the bedroom.

Upon entering she could see Serena standing in the en-suite, still fully dressed, staring at her own reflection; it broke Bernie’s heart. She approached carefully, retrieving strength, and placed her hands on Serena’s shoulders, «Let’s get changed, shall we? »

Serena nodded, and Bernie started unbuttoning her shirt. Before she had reached the second one, Serena started crying, her sobs piercing the silent bathroom where they stood. Impatient to remove the bloodied shirt, Bernie ripped it open, buttons flying in all directions, tearing it off her shoulders. Finally off, Bernie pulled Serena into her arms, holding her firmly, as Serena’s body shook violently.   
Her sobs became more strangled, and she seemed to struggle to take a breath, «Shh, my love. Breath, breath. » Bernie soothed into her ear while stroking her back up and down. They stood like that for what felt like an eternity, Bernie whispering words of comfort into her hair. She was relieved to feel Serena’s body still, her crying subsiding. She felt Serena’s arms squeeze around her before she pulled back, her red eyes looking into her own tearful ones. Serena took another deep breath before placing her forehead against Bernie’s.

«I love you, so very much, Bernie. »

Bernie hummed before replying, «and I you. »

Serena pulled back once more, gazing into Bernie’s eyes with such love and tenderness that Bernie felt humbled by it.

«I’m going to take a shower; I’ll be down in a second if you’ll wait for me. »

Bernie leaned close for a gentle kiss, «Always, love. »

Bernie sat on the sofa, one glass of Macallan whiskey, and one Shiraz in front of her. She didn’t have much of an appetite for anything else, and she assumed that neither did Serena.

She had received a text from Fletch, Michael was stable for now. _At least some good news_.

Hearing the stairs creak slightly, she turned to see Serena coming down, her short hair wet, wearing her golden satin robe, reaching all the way to the floor; and underneath her short, white night dress. There wasn’t anything more beautiful in the world, to Bernie.

Serena sat down next to her, taking her hand in both of hers, seemingly gathering strength.

Bernie looked at her patiently, stroking the soft skin of the inside of her wrist with her thumb.

Taking a deep breath, Serena spoke, «We were all taking it in shifts, surveilling the suspect. We knew that he’d lead us to the dumping site eventually. » she sighed again, and Bernie was reminded once more of the brutality of Serena’s work. The hunt for killers, as she called it; though the term not approved by Serena of course. All it was to her was diligent work, relying on a good team who all had an eye for detail and different areas of expertise.

Bernie held onto Serena’s hand as she continued to recount the events leading up to the explosion. They had been close, had followed the suspect for days, and Serena, in her role as Senior Investigative Officer, had stressed the importance of the suspect not discovering that they were surveilling him. If he did, they risked him destroying evidence. Not only that, a young girl was missing, and they could still save her life, if only he would lead them to her.

That morning, Serena and Michael had parked their civilian police car at the end of the street, watching as the suspect went about his morning routine. It was then, in Serena’s words, that it has all gone to shit. A very eager, yet inexperienced police officer had walked up to the entrance of the suspect’s house, who Serena named “John", and knocked on his door. Both Serena and Michael had immediately exited the car, attempting to intervene, but too late, “John” opened the door.

They all rushed the young officer away, hoping “John” was still unaware of their investigation. Back at the station, the officer was reprimanded, and told to give an account of the exchange. Serena and Michael agreed that they’d go back to “John’s” house to see if he was still there. On the drive there they discussed a variety of scenarios, one of them being that “John” was a suicide risk if he realised he was under investigation. After some back and forth, calls to colleagues, they surmised this to be the most likely scenario. Additional units were called in, as well as ambulances, as Serena made the decision to make the arrest. Ahead of her initial timeline, but they couldn’t risk his death. They couldn't risk the death of the young girl.

Serena paused, removing one of her hands to take a sip of her wine, «I should’ve seen it before, well, I did- but it was already too late. His past interest with fire, an unhealthy curiosity with all things going “boom”. But this had been solely on the Internet, nothing in his purchase history suggested that he’d gotten his hands on anything, not even fertiliser to create an improvised explosive. » Running her hand through her hair, she went on, «It’s like one of those times, you know? When time slows as you realise what’s about to happen. »

Bernie did know that moment, so she understood completely, «Yes, I do know. »

Serena smiled sadly at her for a moment, «There it was, clear as day; he was a suicide risk, but he also wanted to make a show of it. Once it hit me, I ran, blind with panic after Michael, and the officers ahead, desperately shouting at them to stop. It was too late; there was a blast so loud, so powerful that it knocked me backwards several feet. My ears were ringing, still are. Those officers ahead of Michael are dead, Bernie, all three of them. »

Serena looked up at the ceiling, seemingly attempting to stop the tears from running down her cheeks.

«Oh, Serena, I’m so sorry. » Bernie said, with all the sincerity and comfort she could muster. She then took Serena’s face in her hands, meeting her warm, hazel eyes, «The ringing will stop by morning. » 

She pulled Serena close again, «and it wasn’t your fault, do you hear me? »

«They’ll have my head for this you know. » Serena murmured into Bernie’s hair.

Bernie pulled away, looking outraged, «Surely, they won’t blame all that on you! » Sadness was replaced by anger, as Bernie felt her blood boil.

Serena smiled, «Let’s talk more about that tomorrow. » she said, not wanting to discuss that aspect just now.

She took Bernie’s hands in hers once more, «Thank you. »

At Bernie’s puzzled gaze, she went on, «for operating on Michael, for saving his life.»

Bernie opened her mouth to speak, but was silenced by Serena’s lips on hers, «And thank you for being my strength when I have none, for holding me when I break, for listening when words are all I have to give.»

Bernie softened, «I am your partner, wife, and I love you immensely, of course I will be that and everything else you need, always. You know that. »

Leaning forward to pick up her glass, she nodded, «I do. » she whispered affectionately as she downed the rest of her wine in one gulp.

Bernie mirrored the action and got up from the couch, extending her hand towards Serena, «Let’s go to bed. »

Serena smiled up at her and took Bernie’s hand, and together they made their way towards the bedroom.

That night Bernie lay in bed, holding Serena to her, thinking about how grateful she was to have her. She was glad Serena was able to open up and share her fears and worries; to have the strength to let go and trust. Serena was more comfortable in sharing her emotions, she had always been directing in telling Bernie how she felt, and certainly didn’t hold back when something bothered her. Bernie found it inspiring; she’d confessed to Serena once that she never found it easy to open up and show emotion, that she sometimes was envious of those who could do so with more ease. Perhaps, it was the military ethic, so deeply ingrained in her; you can take the girl out of the military, but not the military out of the girl. Bernie had learned much from Serena in that respect, knowing that it is ok to talk about how you feel, and that it certainly isn’t a weakness; rather, it is strength. Slowly, but surely, Bernie had learned to open up, to trust and share. Because of that, they were more than lovers, friends; they were partners in life. Serena understood and knew Bernie like no one else. Equally, Bernie knew Serena like no other.

Lying there, pressing a soft kiss to the side of Serena’s head, she drifted off to sleep, feeling gratitude despite the day they’d had.

Bernie felt as though she’d slept for hours when she awoke to the sound of a vibrating phone. Then, Serena rising to sit up in bed, her back turned away, and Bernie could tell she was reluctant to leave the warmth of her arms.

«Campbell. » she answered, her voice husky from sleep. 

Bernie couldn’t hear the voice on the other end, her own brain in a haze. She did however, immediately pick up on the tension in Serena’s voice when she spoke next, «What? When? » a pause,

«Damn. Why didn’t anyone call me sooner? »

Serena ran a hand through her hair, «Well, I am the SIO on this case, so I _should_ be the first person you called. »

She didn’t say anything else and she hung up and put her phone on the nightstand with a small thud. With a sigh, she leaned forward, elbows on her knees.

Bernie leaned over and stroked her back, «What is it, love? »

Serena turned her head, «I’m sorry for waking you.» she said apologetically.

Bernie waved off the apology, waiting for a response to her question.

«The missing girl? » Serena began, sighing once more, «Is no longer missing. » at the lack of enthusiasm in her voice, Bernie knew the rest.

«She’s dead. Has been for days, apparently. » She said, her face blank and distant.

Bernie got up in bed now, too, to get closer to Serena, wrapping her arms around her from behind, holding her close, «It’s not your fault. » she stated firmly.

Serena turned towards her in the embrace, kissing her gently, «I hope you’re right.» she said sadly before disentangling herself, «I’ve got to go. »

Bernie watched Serena enter the bathroom, feeling the guilt radiating off her. Guilt, what a cruel emotion under such circumstances. Bernie knew that guilt, that knot in one’s stomach that would twist itself into an almost nauseating feeling, until action had to be taken. Whatever that was. It seemed that for Serena it was to go and do her job, a job she was bloody good at, and somehow make sense of a mess.

Several minutes later, Serena emerged from their walk-in fully dressed, wearing black wide slacks with a burgundy silk top. Her hair was styled back, lying in a wave, and Bernie was struck by her look of professionalism, and beauty.

Serena rounded the bed, leaning down to place several soft kisses to Bernie’s lips,

«I’ll call you later, my darling. »

Nodding, Bernie whispered, «Anything you need. I love you. »

Leaning in for a final kiss, Serena stroked Bernie’s cheek tenderly, «I love you, too. »

**Author's Note:**

> Please do let me know what you think!


End file.
